Monica On Call

The calls almost always come in as “Caller Unknown” or “Spam Risk” or Abernathy, TX, where I know no one. Generally, I don’t pick up. That’s why voicemail was invented.

The first call was from Frank, not his real name. The number came in from a neighboring town, and the voice sounded on the older side. He had found us online, and his request was simple: Could I help him wrap a book he had gotten for a lady friend?  He was “no good at wrapping” and “all thumbs.” He wanted to make the gift special for her birthday.

Now, this wasn’t exactly our business model. Gift wrapping services, that is. We sell reusable fabric gift wrap online and ship it to you, and YOU do the wrapping. (We have lots of tutorials online to show you how)  But I loved that he had reached out, and I found his request endearing. I was even more interested when he told me it was a French book he had found and was giving it to a French woman who lived nearby. (I thought there might be a romantic interest but didn’t want to pry) The truth is I’m a sucker for a sweet story. I suggested we meet at a local coffee shop in a day or so, and I would wrap the book for him.

As I waited at Caffe Nero with several different medium sheets, I predicted 2 things: Frank would choose the pretty Liberty of London berry print and the book would be Bonjour Tristesse. I was right on both counts. 

Frank arrived quite late, but it didn’t matter. He had arrived on foot, and when I saw how slowly he moved and how stooped over he was I felt so bad that I hadn’t offered to pick him up. We had a nice chat though, and I told him about our business. He told me about the gift he had found and about his friend. He was delighted that I knew and had read the book. Then I wrapped up the slim volume in no time. He was good to go and ten dollars exchanged hands. When it was time to leave I offered him a ride home, and he accepted my offer. I helped him in and out of the car, and I thought of my dad, who had lived to be about that age. As I watched him walking slowly down the street to his apartment, I was wistful that I hadn’t heard more of his story. And I thought of him multiple times in the following days. I hope his lady friend liked his gift all Rapt up!